


POLAR OPPOSITES.

by Xoxo_Sadie21



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff without Plot, Imprinting (Twilight), Intimacy, Polar Opposites, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:13:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26473189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xoxo_Sadie21/pseuds/Xoxo_Sadie21
Summary: You’re Seth’s polar opposite, and sometimes, you let that get to you more than you should.
Relationships: Seth Clearwater/Reader, Seth Clearwater/You
Kudos: 54





	POLAR OPPOSITES.

**Author's Note:**

> —NOTES: I suppose this got away from me, so I will apologize for ending it the way that I did. There will be suggestive themes in here, but nothing too descriptive. Read at your own risk. For the sake of some people’s sanity, Seth will be 18.

There are times when being with Seth feels like being in your natural habitat. Despite being his imprint as well as his polar opposite, it doesn't take away the fact that he is the only person in the universe that understands you better than you understand yourself. He knows what you want, what you need – and he's had ample amount of time to learn about you. You don't even have to ask to cancel plans, because he's already halfway across the room, doing that for you. You like solitude, and Seth is willing to give it, even if that means staying away for as long as you need him. It's not like he can say no to you.

On a day like today, you aren't up for much. Seth can sense it as soon as he walks into the room. His eyes seek you out, and when he finds you, his body relaxes instantly. With a small smile, he shuffles over to the couch and sinks into the spot next to you. You barely have time to look up before he's placing a kiss to your temple.

"Oh," you squeak, surprised. "Hello."

Seth instinctively shudders and then presses his lips to the bare slip of skin just peeking out from your shirt as it slides off your shoulder. He gives a hum that seems to rumble through his chest rather than his throat whilst he breathes you in. This, in turn, sends a sharp searing heat through your belly.

"Hey," he chirps happily, lifting his head to gaze down at you. "How was your day?"

You turn your focus away from the pages of your book, and an involuntary grin stretches across your lips. "Fine," you say, cheeks warm. "Yours?"

"Not as fun as it would've been with you," comes he immediate answer.

At this, you frown. Being the polar opposite of your energetic shape-shifting boyfriend meant that he's had to make some changes. Because of you, because of the way that you are, he's cut back on a lot of things, and without falter. You feel terrible for not being able to crawl out from that rock you’ve nudged yourself under for so long. 

Suddenly, broodily, you turn back to your book, unable to stop the glare from morphing your features. From beside you, Seth stiffens, and you can feel his eyes boring into the side of your face, trying to figure the switch in mood. Guilt slithers through the bond and, like most days, you try not to let it show. But Seth being as perceptive as he is with you, notices it right away, and before you have a chance to fix it, something like a cold, steel trap slams down on the bond, detaching whatever emotion he let leak through. 

“Don’t do that,” you gripe miserably. You don’t have the courage to look away from your book. 

Dejectedly, he murmurs, “You’re upset.” 

“No. I’m not,” you infer snidely, refusing to let him pick you apart. You know that he knows you’re hedging – it’s become one of your defense mechanisms over the course of time. And, naturally, like gravity, he’s learned every single one of them. Except, there are times where you won’t want to give into his coaxing and you’ll cut him off before there’s a chance he can get more than two feet in front of you. Right now, there’s just too much happening, too much raging around inside your head, and all your mind is telling you to do, is to protect yourself. Cut him off. 

However, there’s still that side of you that aches over the fact that you can’t help being this way. Needless to say, you wish you weren’t like this. You wish you could give Seth more. 

The atmosphere is tense. Seth still hasn’t moved and he hasn’t said anything, but you can feel how desperately he wants you to say something, to look at him. Having to choose between one or the other, you decide to speak, but the words that spill out, do so on their own accord. 

“I don’t like being this way, you know. It’s not exactly a nice feeling...being as reserved and callous as I am. And you, you deserve better than that.” You twiddle with the corner of one of the pages, rolling it between your fingers. “You’re the epitome of sunshine and good things and I–”

“You are perfect,” he intervenes softly. 

Even now, in such a delicate environment, you cringe inwardly at the word – no one’s perfect, especially not you. So, really, you suppose that it’s the imprint talking. 

“I’m not,” you sigh, resigned. “You see me that way because there’s no other way you can.” 

“No. I see you that way because I love you.” 

Your heart shoots all the way up. That’s just the imprint talking, you tell yourself. It’s the imprint. Everything he does for you is because he has no other choice, because he’s wired to please you, to make you feel good about yourself. 

“You don’t.” 

His devastation saturates the air. “You don’t get to tell me how to feel,” he argues, and for the first time, there’s a darker edge to his voice. 

Your head whips around so fast, that you’re surprised you don’t break anything. With an air of hesitation, you recognize the many emotions fighting for dominance in his expression. Misery and helplessness twisting him up inside like a hurricane. His arms and hands are flexed, fingers curled into fists so tight that his knuckles are losing their natural russet hue. It’s like he’s trying to fight against all instinct, against the imprint. And you don’t doubt it – Seth is stubborn. 

“I _can’t_ tell you how to feel,” you say irritably. “That’s my point.” 

You’re surprised to see that your words have the desired effect on him. The expression on his face wavers ever so slightly, and his gaze drops away from yours. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, a broken whisper. 

Oh, now you’ve gone and done it. Every fiber of your being begs you to make it better. You wish you had the power to go back in time and completely neglect this conversation. The sight of him like this – head hung low, on the verge of tears – feels like someone took a knife and dipped it into the Atlantic before stabbing you in the chest with it. 

To your horror, a tear slides down his cheek. 

And then the reality of your situation comes raring back into you tenfold. “No. Don’t, don’t do that. I’m sorry,” you stammer, reaching over to brush the pad of your thumb over his cheek. In your panic, your movements are hasty as you struggle to get him to look at you. You cup his face and drop your forehead onto his gently. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. I love you. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.” 

You have half a second to take note of the sudden glow in his cheeks before he croaks out, “You love me?” 

“I do,” you whisper, nuzzling your nose against his. “I love you so much.” 

As if suddenly overcome with emotion, Seth methodically and easily shovels you into his lap, hands gripping at your thighs. You squeal out from the change in momentum, giggling when he burrows his face in the crook of your neck, peppering your skin with open-mouthed kisses. 

You card your fingers through his dark tufts. “I’m sorry for snapping. For saying all that horrible stuff – I just – sometimes I–”

He lifts his head, shaking it wildly. “You don’t have to apologize. I understand how overwhelming it is for you. But,” he pauses, eyes slowly and carefully tracking your own. “You should know that I have never been more in love with you than I am right this moment. It _grows_. Steadily. Yes, the imprint has made me yours since the moment I first saw you, but this, right here, this happened over time.” 

He leans in and captures your lips between his. One hand slowly rises to cup your cheek, his thumb dancing along your skin. You’re so overcome with emotion that you don’t even realize you’re brushing up against him, causing little happy noises to rumble in his throat. His other hand rests on your thigh, lightly squeezing, groping, kneading. He pulls away before you can slip your tongue into his mouth, and reattaches his to the fevered skin on your neck near your collarbones. 

“You have no idea how much I love you,” he rasps, his warm breath tickling at your skin. He grips you close. “No idea.” 

He’s right, you don’t. 

“Show me,” you say, voice slightly muffled to where you have your face mushed into his hair. “Let me feel it. All of it.” 

Seth has never opened the bond fully, not once, because he’d been afraid of overwhelming you. And you’ve respected that because, at the time, you’d been certain that it would’ve caused more damage than goodness. Right now, you don’t care. 

In a rigidness that has you winded, you cling impossibly close to his chest, and the rapid rise and fall of his reverberates against you. He peeks up at you, and you’re surprised to see his pupils are fully blown. “Are you sure?” His voice is a mere, undulated murmur. 

All you can do in that moment, being as awe-struck as you are, is nod. 

And then suddenly, you feel _everything_. 


End file.
